


But Only Hope.

by Aerial312



Category: Divergent Series - Veronica Roth
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-03
Updated: 2014-03-03
Packaged: 2018-01-14 10:08:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1262323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aerial312/pseuds/Aerial312
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set following Chapter 23 of Divergent, Four's POV of the attack on Tris by Peter, Drew, & Al.</p>
            </blockquote>





	But Only Hope.

**Author's Note:**

> My first foray into writing Divergent fic.

 

I'm not ready to tell her my real name.  Not quite.  By now I know I will, but not yet.  I'm still not ready to fully open that door.  I've stopped trying to persuade myself that I don't have a thing for her—I definitely do—but we can't cross that line yet.  Yet. 

 

This, of course, begs the question of why did I bring her here, to my apartment, in the middle of the night.  The easy answer is for her safety.  She shares a dormitory with her attackers. It's more than that though.  I didn't want to let her out of my sight. I scooped her up, and carried her here, leaving her injured assailant—the only one who didn't run—on the floor to deal with only after I was sure she was in a safe place, passed out on my bed.

 

 If she wanted me to, I would bring her back to the dorm.  But she hasn't asked, and I'm not going to offer.  We've fallen into a comfortable silence.  She lets her head rest against my hip.  I concentrate on my breathing, trying not to let it betray how I feel when I'm close to her.  It's electric.  It's all I can think about.  I have let her into my life more than I've ever let anyone in, and it scares the hell out of me.

 

"Maybe you should lie back down," I offer weakly, because I should.  She doesn't answer, and I don't ask again, not ready to lose this connection just yet.  So I stand there in silence, holding an ice pack to the back of her neck as she uses my side as a pillow. 

 

I knew there was going to be trouble tonight.  When I'd talked to her in the practice room earlier, it was clear that the other transfers weren't taking her newfound higher ranking very well.  She was more irked by the way it had affected her friends at the time, but my mind went immediately to Peter and the way he'd responded the last time he wasn't ranked first. 

 

I'd gotten back from hanging out with Zeke and the others, and couldn't settle down. I couldn't shake the sense that there was going to be trouble.  Finally, I'd left my room and begun to wander the halls, checking the practice room again, creeping by the initiate dorms, and finally spotting the commotion by the chasm.  I sprinted toward them as Peter picked Tris up by the neck.  Al ran by in the other direction—I didn't have time to deal with him.  Drew tried to get in my way, and he paid for that.  Peter managed to get away, because my more pressing priority was getting Tris back over the railing to safety.

 

There's a good-sized bruise on her cheek from where he'd hit her, blooming in vibrant purple . I should have grabbed more than one ice pack.  I'm sure there are many more that I can't see on her body as well, but she's tough, a lot tougher than she looks, both physically and mentally.   She fought back and held on where a person with a weaker will might not have been able to.  It's part of what draws me to her. 

 

I yawn.  It's late by now. Really late.  It was already late when I got back from depositing Drew at the infirmary, and I've been standing here lost in my thoughts for a while.  The ice pack isn't very cold anymore, and I'm pretty sure she fell asleep right after she put her head on my side.  I chuck the ice pack in the direction of the fridge, and slowly lower myself to sit beside her, careful not to jostle her. 

 

Her head now rests against the side of my neck, my arm wrapped around her shoulder, much as we were when I carried her back here.  I don't want to let go.  The more I hold her, the more I want to.  I want to just lay back against the pillow and hold her close, but I can't.  I don't want to just assume that that's okay with her.  Even though all our interactions tonight seem to indicate she wants to be closer, I have to be sure.  Especially after what those cowards did to her.  The thought of them touching her like that makes me sick.

 

I lower her gently to the pillow and press my lips to her forehead.  I'd like to cover her with the quilt, but it's not worth the risk of waking her.  The room isn't that cold. 

 

As I pull away, I let my hand linger on her cheek.  It's still sticky from the tears that fell earlier that I didn't acknowledge.  I knew she wouldn't want me to.  She never lets on to any weakness, just powers through.  I hope she can find it in herself to do it tomorrow though.  She's safer if they don't perceive her to be a threat.  With the beating she took, she's going to be sore tomorrow, so if she can just not try to hide it so much, she should get the point across. 

 

I push myself to my feet to pick up the ice pack from the floor, and put it back in the freezer.  It's always good to have some of those ready to go.  I sit on the floor, exhausted all of a sudden.  With a groan, I lay down on my stomach, resting my head in the crook of my arms and looking back at her.  She's safe for the time being.  And soon she'll be done with initiation and I won't be her instructor anymore, and it won't all be so complicated.  I can only hope.

 

" _The miserable have no other medicine but only hope"-- Measure for Measure, William Shakespeare_


End file.
